


Obikin Drabble

by fn_6969



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 17:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13104975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fn_6969/pseuds/fn_6969
Summary: Anonymous prompt: "fic idea- darth vader thinking about obi-wan oh no"





	Obikin Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to tumblr user @ihateskysolo for helping my fried brain produce the first thing I've written in a little over a year.

"And if the rebel alliance doesn’t heed our warning, we’ll be forced to attack during the solar flares.” Tarkin offers from his position at the head of the long black conference table, filled with the highest ranking members of the military.

“I don’t know that that time frame is in our best interest.” A smaller voice from the opposite end pipes up then, though who it belongs to Vader doesn’t care to notice, as his eyes- that is to say his real eyes, not the cold, obsidian ones on his mask- were closed as he willed the meeting to come to an end. He usually found discussions concerning the Empire's military strategy to be more interesting than this one, but he’d been a little out of sorts the last few days. It was quiet around the base as of late, and Vader always found himself thinking too much in those moments of silence.

“And why is that?” Came Tarkin's terse response, echoing through the chamber and shaking Vader from his reverie.

“I just- I have a bad feeling about this.” Was the nameless man’s reply, which lead to more indistinct bickering that Vader couldn’t hear over the sudden onset of an overwhelming ringing in his ears.

Vader stands up abruptly, his hands balled tightly into fists on the table before him as he spoke, his voice noticeably gruff even through the respirator, “Out. Get out.”

Silent confusion falls over the room as everyone exchanges anxious glances, nobody wanting to stay, but not wanting to be the first one to make a move either.

“GET OUT!” He bellows, slamming his fists on the table as his last semblance of self-control shatters into a thousand pieces, and immediately there's a mad dash to the door as everyone in the room rushes to exit. This tiny reminder of his past, of the man who was his everything, caused Darth Vader’s armor to fail him and leave Anakin Skywalker exposed to the now empty room.

The ringing subsided and he suddenly became aware of his pulse throbbing in the back of his head. How much easier emotion had been when he could breathe for himself, move for himself, think for himself. Maybe it was better that he be confined to this suit, after all the pain he had caused everyone, the pain he’d caused Obi-Wan (even thinking his name sent an involuntary shudder down his spine), he most certainly deserved this feeling of imprisonment day in and day out. Darth Vader- Anakin- hated himself so much he wasn’t even sure he deserved freedom.

Obi-Wan had always been good- pure, unadulterated good. Even without trying he was good, but he always tried nonetheless. That, Anakin had long supposed, was the fundamental difference between he and Obi-Wan. He didn't deserve peace nor freedom. He had only ever caused pain to the people he loved, especially to his former master. How could he betray all he’d been taught, all he’d been given? And how could he continue to do so? The Jedi had given him so much, a chance when he was already undeserving, and he had done nothing but fail. He failed himself, he failed the jedi, he failed Obi-Wan.

Instinctively, as he had done so many times before, he reached out through the force, seeking the comfort and warmth that Obi-Wan brought him during difficult times. And still, even after all these years of never making a connection, he’s still bitterly disappointed when Obi-Wan doesn’t reach back out to envelop him in the warmth of his force presence.

Anakin walks over to the giant observation window and stares out at the stars- each one bigger than even the biggest planet, yet so far away from one another that even their nearest neighbor looks like a pinprick they could never hope to reach. He realized now that no matter how desperately or often he reached out, Obi-Wan was never going to reach back, and that this was his own doing.

"You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you."

Obi-Wan's last words to him echo painfully in his ears. Anakin’s love for him is still overwhelmingly painful to him, and always flavored with guilt that he knows he will never be absolved of. He swallows the lump in his throat and composes himself, putting his imposing demeanor back in place before turning abruptly and striding towards the door, cape billowing behind him. There were rebels to destroy.


End file.
